- Inflation.
- The guys over at Gary’s Olde Towne Tavern dared them.
- Too many drugs.
- Not enough drugs.
- Time Sheath-related shenanigans.
- Forgot the ending.
- Billy was especially dick-punchy that night, so to protect their dicks, the Boys just kept on jamming.
- Because a 50-minute Playing would be overkill.
- Bomb attached to stage set to go off if they jammed below 55 mph.
- Keith had to go to the bathroom and everyone else was being an asshole.
- They ordered the Peking Duck, and everyone knows it takes at least 45 minutes for the Peking Duck, which is why you should call ahead, but the Dead did not call ahead and now they are killing time waiting for their Peking Duck by doodling around for almost an hour.
- There were just too many notes in the guitars that night, I guess.
- The Man said not to, and the Dead was like, “Fuck The Man,” so they did.
- Nothing good on teevee.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: playing in the band
When you’re listening to the Dead and maybe you’re also doing something else, shaving kittens maybe, and you’ve lost track of the jam and find yourself asking, “What the hell song did this start out as?”
It’s always Playing.
2/15/73 in St. Paul: nothing special, honestly. There’s a HoF He’s Gone right up front,a You Ain’t Woman Enough amuse-buche from Mrs. Donna Jean and some adorable harmonies on Here Comes Sunshine, but there’s no big jam–the Phil-led Playing barely makes it to 15 minutes and there’s neither a Dark Star nor an Other One.
But…life is short; listen to ’73.
Here’s a spectacular spectacle and bodacious creation from that magical year of 1977: 10/30 in Nap City. Overshadowed by the night before’s manic roar and stomp, as well as the first week of November’s streak of genius, this one deserves a listen.
Second set’s the juicy goodness here: Vice-Admiral of the Northern Fleet Mr. Completely pimps the weirdly placed Peggy-O for enbronzifcation, and he might be right: Check out Keith on the clavichord and LEAVE IT ON for the rest, a big Playing sandwich with a HoF Wharf Rat that threatens to tear the roof off the dump; then the downshift in the Reprise fading away to barely articulated string scrapings from Garcia until it wells up in no time at all and you remember just why they had two drummers, especially this year.
And then it’s Chuck Berry time: you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.
Anyone bitching about Mrs. Donna Jean being out of tune must first provide three (3) discrete examples of Garcia finishing Playing with all six strings having any relationship at all with the Western system of harmonics.
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